Oh, it was humiliating to think of! Lavinia walked away in her rage.

By the time she reached Little Queen Street, the storm had passed.

She had arrived at the conclusion that all men were faithless, selfish, dishonourable.

For the future she would have naught to do with them.
The excitement of the rehearsal, the sense of independence she felt when all was got through with credit, lent her buoyancy, but it did not last.
The dream she had once had of playing to an audience and seeing only Lancelot Vane in the first row of the pit applauding and eager to congratulate her, was gone.

She was done with him for ever.